


Pillory of the Sleepless

by Mertiya



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Actually everybody needs coffee, Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee, Jace needs coffee badly, M/M, No one is getting coffee, recognizing people by their usernames, science student problems, supercomputer queues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4509102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jace is struggling to pull an all-nighter to study for his debate tournament.  This requires coffee.  Ral is struggling to pull an all-nighter to finish his homework.  This also requires coffee.  Unfortunately, there is only a single cup of coffee remaining.</p>
<p>Thanks to the lovely well_ari, there's now a translation into Chinese available:  http://wellari122.lofter.com/post/1d726129_865f743</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillory of the Sleepless

            Jace stared at the clock in front of him.  3:42 a.m.  God, it was late.  Early. Whatever.  His eyes felt scratchy, the lids heavy, but he forced them to stay open, moving them from the square green numbers of his alarm clock back down to the notes he was trying to study for tomorrow’s debate tournament. The pencil marks blurred and writhed as his eyes slid in and out of focus.  No good.  Time for another coffee break.

            Stretching his cramped, aching limbs, he yanked his favorite blue hoody over his head and shuffled slowly toward the door to the lounge.  Glancing back, he saw that Kallist was sleeping peacefully, and he tried to suppress the immediate surge of envy.  That way lay sleep, and sleep meant defeat. Jace was not going to be defeated by a simple debate tournament.

            Blinking against the fluorescent lights of the lounge, he leaned against the door for a moment, staring vaguely in the direction of the coffee machine. Coffee.  Yes.  Good. He could smell it. They’d been running low recently, but, with luck, there would be at least a little left.  After the debate tournament, he could swing by the Co-op and pick up some more.

            Trying not to fall over, Jace vaguely watched his feet as he stumbled sleepily across the lounge.  He half-expected a golden light and hallowed singing to start up as he reached for the handle of the coffee pot, like the scene from _The Sword and the Stone_ when Arthur reached for the pommel. Instead, another hand landed on top of his.  He looked up.

            The young man standing next to him wasn’t anyone he knew, although he’d seen him around the men’s bathroom and had a vague idea that he was a year or two above Jace himself.  Certainly, he didn’t have a roommate, and singles were usually reserved for juniors and seniors.

            “That’s my coffee,” said the stranger.  “And there’s only enough left for one cup.”

            Jace’s eyes went from the other man’s face back down to the coffee-pot. Sure enough, there was a distressingly small amount of caffeine-enriched nectar remaining.  “I was here first,” he pointed out reasonably. “See?  My hand’s under yours.”

            “Yeah, well, I bought the last batch.  So it’s mine.”

            “It’s _communal_ ,” Jace said witheringly.

            “It was communal until there was only one cup left.  Now it’s mine.”

            “No,” said Jace.  “I was here first. And I really need it.”

            “So do I, I’m falling asleep in the middle of my Engineering 500 project, and that’s due tomorrow.”

            “ _I’m_ falling asleep in the middle of studying for the debate tournament, and _that’s_ tomorrow!”  Jace glared at the attempted coffee-stealer, and the attempted coffee-stealer glared back.

            “Doesn’t count, not academic.”

            “Yes it does, I’m pre-law.”

            The response was a disbelieving snort.  “No, you’re not.”

            Jace stared at him.  “Yes, I am. How would you know?”

            Smirk. Pair of raised eyebrows. “Because no one who goes to the insane trouble of doing an independent study with Alhammarret is going to waste his time in pre-law.”

            Equal parts consternation and anger boiled up Jace’s stomach. “How the _fuck_ did you know I’m doing an independent study with him?”

            “Because you’re a freshman, so your name’s on your door and you didn’t bother to take it down.”

            “So?”

            “And there’s no way there’s _another_ jbelere on this campus who constantly tries to submit jobs to the cluster that their lab shares with ours at 4 a.m. on Friday mornings.”

            Recognition dawned.  There was only one other user who _ever_ submitted things at the insane hours of a Friday that Jace had gotten used to claiming as his own. “You’re rzarek. You fucking asshole.”

            “Hey, it’s not my fault my priority is higher than yours.  _I_ am doing an actual _project_.”

            Jace was stung.  “If Professor Alhammarret would _give_ me an actual project, I would also—”

            “You’re a freshman, doing an independent study with a computational materials professor. You’re not pre-law.”

            “I am double majoring,” Jace gritted through his teeth.

            “I guess we’ll see how long that lasts, _freshman_.”

            Fed up, Jace tried to jerk the coffee away, but rzarek held on tightly. “Come on, just give me the fucking coffee,” Jace snarled.  At one level, he was aware that fighting over a pot of steaming-hot coffee was both stupid and probably dangerous, but another part of him was thoroughly annoyed and definitely not ready to give in. Apparently, rzarek wasn’t anymore ready to give in than he was, because he tugged back.  For a long moment, the force between stretched out between them—and then something gave, and there was a coffee pot flying toward Jace’s face.

            He yelped and instinctively closed his eyes before the liquid hit, and then there was burning all over his face and down his front. 

            “Oh shit,” he heard.  “Oh shit oh shit oh _shit_.”  He had his hands on his face, trying to wipe it off, and there was a hand on his shoulders as well, pushing him forward. He stumbled along, trying to grope for the hem of his hoody so he could get it off, but someone else’s hand was in the way.  “In here,” said rzarek’s voice, and Jace heard a door open, heard the sound of a shower turning on, and then he yelped again as the cold water hit him in the face.

            “What the hell?” he said, or rather tried to say.  What he actually said was closer to “Pblfth helf,” because he choked on cold water, sputtering and shivering.  There was a hand on his head, holding him roughly, and he flailed and hit out.

            “Jesus Christ, hold still, are your eyes all right?”

            Jace blinked, coughed, and this time succeeded at knocking the hand off of his head.  He was in the bathroom across the hall from the lounge, and rzarek had shoved him underneath the shower and turned it on at full blast.  He was soaked.  At least the burning of the coffee had subsided, which probably meant it hadn’t been as horribly hot as it had felt for an instant.  Leaning against the side of the shower, he managed a shaky laugh.  “It wasn’t exactly hydrochloric acid.  Just coffee.”

            “Yeah, well—shut up.  Are you all right?  I don’t need to start my morning off with a murder.”

            “I think I’m okay,” Jace said.  “I guess it wasn’t that hot.  I mean, it must have been sitting out there for a while.”

            “Sorry about, uh.” 

            He probably ought to be angry, but Jace was mostly just relieved that nothing worse had happened.  Besides, he hadn’t exactly been blameless.  “It was my fault, too.  I’m just unlucky.”  Heaving a sigh, he looked down at the victim who had borne the brunt of the disaster. His favorite hoody now sported a large coffee stain going right from top to bottom.  That was going to be difficult to get out. “Good thing I like the smell of coffee.”

            “If you wear that a lot, you’re going to be sick of it,” rzarek said awkwardly. “Fuck, glad I didn’t kill you.”

            “Well, you may as well have.  Now I can’t have coffee,” Jace said, sliding wetly down the back of the shower and sitting down with a discouraged sploosh.

            “I think I’m awake enough without it now,” rzarek said.  “Didn’t the burning hot pain wake you up at all?”

            “Maybe,” Jace admitted.  “I’m not sure the adrenalin will last long enough to get me through until the dining hall opens, though.”

            “Oh, come out to the lounge.  It’s bright out there, and I’ll prod you if you start falling asleep.”

            “I am soaked,” Jace pointed out.

            “So change.  And _then_ come out to the lounge and—”

            “Okay, okay.  Jesus, you’re pushy.”

            “Just trying to look out for a coffee-covered underclassman, that’s all.”

            Jace groaned.  “This is my favorite hoody.  You asshole.”

            “I’ll let you have some quarters for the laundry machine.”

            “Ugh. Fine.”  Jace yawned and climbed slowly to his feet. He paused for a moment at the door to the bathroom.  “What is your actual name?  I can’t just keep calling you ‘rzarek’.”

            “I don’t see why not.”  Jace glared.  “All right, all right.  My name’s Ral Zarek. Happy?”

            To his surprise, despite the faint smell of coffee, the exhaustion, and the unpleasant feeling of being soaked through, he was. 

~

            Any kind of happiness or general satisfaction with his life had evaporated by the time Jace was sitting in the auditorium, waiting for the debate tournament to start.  His head was spinning, and he was pretty sure he was running on nothing but coffee and the last remaining dregs of adrenaline from the night before.  _Why do I do these things to myself_? he wondered vaguely.

            He glanced around at the auditorium, which wasn’t exactly packed. Not a lot of people showing up on a Sunday morning for a debate tournament—who would have guessed? Jace’s head was swimming with the number of times he’d gone through his notes, but it also felt heavy and empty. This was not going to be a good debate.  He could usually tell ahead of time.  Maybe if he’d had that extra cup of coffee.  Maybe if he hadn’t fallen asleep for two hours and been woken up by Ral shaking him, groggy and out of place, only to find he’d had his head in the other man’s lap for half an hour, which was just embarrassing.  Why Ral hadn’t woken him up earlier, god only knew, Jace thought irritably.

            He slumped down in his seat, wishing he could at least have his hoody for good luck, but it was still in the laundry.  A hand dropped onto his shoulder, and he turned sluggishly, expecting to see the captain of the debate team.

            “Good luck,” said Ral Zarek, with a tired wink.  “I’ll try not to fall asleep during your riveting performance.”

            Before Jace could gather his scattered wits to respond, Ral had vaulted up three more rows and thrown himself down into an empty seat, propping his feet on the back of the seat in front, in blatant defiance of all good manners and decorum. Jace tried to think of something to say, found nothing, and turned back to his notes, but the cold, foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach was, surprisingly, thawing out. Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a bad day after all.

~

            They had lost, but Jace himself hadn’t completely disgraced himself. Well, not at every point anyway. And he’d managed not to fall asleep in front of everyone, so he was going to count that as a marginal success. Tiredly, he made his way down the platform, and for the third time that day, found himself confronted by Ral Zarek.

            The archnemesis of his coffee was wearing jeans and a button-up shirt that, though crumpled, Jace was pretty sure he hadn’t been wearing the night before. With the sleeves rolled up, Jace could see that Ral had a winding tattoo around his left arm.   “Um?” Jace said intelligently as Ral smirked at him.

            “You lost,” Ral said, which, by way of opening conversation, Jace felt was really a little lacking in tact.

            “You don’t have to rub it in.”

            “Look, I’m tired, I’m not at my best when I’m tired.  I was trying to say, it—may be slightly—only a little bit—but slightly my fault.”

            “Really.”

            “Yeah, you probably needed that extra cup of coffee.”  Jace raised a somewhat disbelieving eyebrow. “So, maybe I could make it up to you.”

            “What?”

            “Get you another cup of coffee, jbelere.”

            “My name is Jace—wait, what?”

            “You. Me.  Starbucks.  Delicious nectar of life.  Yes or no?”

            “Uh,” said Jace.  Had he just been asked out on a date?  By the asshole who had covered him with coffee the night before?  The correct answer, of course, was “hell no, I’m going back to my dorm room to sleep.”

            So, naturally, Jace said, “Sure.”

            Ral hid his surprise poorly.  “Well.  Great. Cool.”

            “Unless you didn’t mean it.”

            There was a pause, and Ral smirked again.  “Nope.  I meant it.” He held out an arm. “Here, lean on me until we make it to stimulants.”

            Jace found himself smiling as well, as he looped his arm around Ral’s and interlaced their fingers.  A sideways glance as they began walking told him that Ral was, in fact, taken by surprise. “What?” Jace asked innocently. “Isn’t this what you do on a date?”

            Ral stumbled, but caught himself.  “Good point,” he said after a moment.  They continued to walk.  “You know,” said Ral, as they shoved open the door to the auditorium and blinked in the bright sunlight, “somebody needs to buy more coffee for the dorm.  Which we could do, after going to Starbucks.  And then we could head back to the dorm.  And have another cup of coffee.”

            “You’ll spill it on me,” Jace said.  “I won’t have any clean clothes left.”

            “Well,” responded Ral, an evil grin spreading across his face. “That’s not necessarily a problem.”

            To which Jace really had no response.


End file.
